Eternal
by Shadows of a Dream
Summary: In the age of the Titan Lords, the spirit of Death was sealed in a blade called Eternal. The Titan Kronos sent the blade to a hidden shrine on mortal earth. Now, two half-bloods - Lauhrel and Keta - have found Eternal. No one expects the repurcussions...
1. Prologue

**_Prologue: We Seize History's Most Deadly Kitchen Knife_**

The term _half-blood _is deceptive. It implies a duality, a clash of worlds – a meeting of mortal and immortal bloodlines. In essence, it sounds fantastic. Even desirable.

But that's not the truth.

A half-blood has no true family. In the human world, monsters plague them, an ever-present threat lurking in the shadows. In the Olympian world, they are limited, lacking the glory and might of the deathless gods. A half-blood is an outcast, save for among other half-bloods.

But there are those who are rejected by their own.

Lauhrel and Keta were two of them.

**...**

There's a fine line between love and hate. And they knew it better than anyone else.

Some would call it destiny; others, fate; others, dumb luck. Regardless, the events that were about to transpire would change the course of mortal and immortal history alike.

Within the ancient, stone shrine, the dual-bladed sword was firmly situated on a small pedestal. It lay still, unmoving, but the weight of its presence settled like a thick, heavy fog on the surrounding woods. Strange surges of energy radiated from it in waves. The left side of the blade sent heat rolling out from it, the kind of heat that makes your spine tingle; the right side emitted chills so fierce, they felt like icy pinpricks on the two girls' skin.

The first line of the incantation was engraved into the blade itself, but in Ancient Greek: _Ασημένιο blade, θανάσιμο του bane. _The pair of girls had no difficulty reading it. They were half-bloods; their minds were naturally wired for Ancient Greek and nothing else. English letters succumbed to dyslexia, and the ADHD didn't help much. Only Greek felt natural to a demigod.

Lauhrel was the first one to decipher the carvings. Properly translated, the blade read: _Silver blade, mortal's bane. _The Greek letters glowed with an ethereal light. In truth, the weapon was two swords, joined at the ends of their hilts; at the edge of either hilt, a symbol was precisely engraved. On the first, Alpha. On the second, Omega.

Alpha and Omega.

Beginning and end.

_Eternal._

The pair of allies carefully laid their ox hide shields down in the grass, as though in reverence for the power before them.

"We've found it," Lauhrel breathed. "After all this time..."

"I know." The disbelief was plain in Keta's voice. "I can't believe it."

Lauhrel had never been particularly concerned with her appearance, but she felt almost embarrassed to appear at this critical moment, about to approach the blade of legend, with her overall look so unkempt. Her skin was sweaty, her knees and arms torn from a life on the run; her thin brown hair fell to her shoulders, and despite the veil braid that Keta had done for her, it was stringy and hanging in total disarray. Lauhrel couldn't help but feel a flush of frustration climb her cheeks. This was the moment that would change them forever.

The sword's presence wasn't exactly _evil, _but it was hardly good. It was something... else. Something beyond the black-and-white moral code that ruled the mortal realm. It was wild. Untamable. Uncontainable.

Although she would never have admitted it, Lauhrel felt a shiver of fear at the base of her spine. She took a deep breath, mustering her courage. "This is it," she said again, as if to convince herself. "My father's blade. _Eternal_."

Keta took a few steps closer, but then she paused, frozen, uncertain. She turned, looking to Lauhrel for reassurance. "It has a... presence," she breathed. "I can't... explain." Something between cold and heat tore through Keta, slithering down her spine. "It's powerful. I've never felt such power."

Lauhrel nodded. She blinked her golden-brown eyes, as though she were still trying to convince herself that this was real. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not." Keta's deep blue eyes swam with panic. Her ADD always did heighten her reflexes, and today with no exception; she looked ready to draw her burnished bronze spear from its sheath on her back at any moment. "I'm just – _you_ should go. Kronos was your father. Not mine. It's your rightful inheritance."

Lauhrel nodded. "Alright." She sheathed her polished bronze sword at her side, took a slow breath, and began to move forward.

The fifteen-year-old with the dark hair and low ponytail hung back, allowing Lauhrel to approach the blade's shrine. Lauhrel was two years older, but even so, she couldn't suppress the shudders that were beginning to quiver down her back.

_So close. I never believed I'd get so close..._

She reached out, fingers trembling, and pressed her palm against the cold iron. Energy hummed out of _Eternal_, singing in Lauhrel's blood. Her whole self thrilled with this strength, this unbridled mystery.

Keta saw the distance in her friend's eyes; they were always an unnerving gold, but now they looked almost molten, burning with some ancient power. "Lauhrel?" Keta burst out. "Are you alright?"

Lauhrel's lips parted, slowly, forming a syllable, and then the incantation was flying out of her mouth.

_Ασημένιο blade, θανάσιμο του bane_

_Σκλάβους για όνομα του Θεού deathless Βασιλεία_

A voice like iron against iron, growling, grating, called in Lauhrel's mind. _Daughter of Kronos – where is the second?_

_Keta, _Lauhrel tried to say, but her voice had disappeared into thin air._ KETA!_

Keta let out a shriek as the voice invaded her mind. _Daughter of Hades, speak! _Claws scraped at her from the inside out. _Release me!_

Keta gasped, her heart thudding against her ribs. Her stomach churned with nausea. Her mouth opened of its own accord, the incantation pushing up her throat, in unison with Lauhrel. Perfect unison. Something was taking over; something was seizing them, using them, calling them to _itself_...

_Ασημένιο blade, θανάσιμο του bane_

_Σκλάβους για όνομα του Θεού deathless Βασιλεία_

_Του Titan κατάρα, η παρτίδα είναι cast _

_Θνητών δεν προορίζονταν για την τελευταία _

_Νεκρά γη, αιματηρή κηλίδα_

_Αυτή η μάστιγα, που διαθέτει ένα όνομα _

_Αποκοπή μαύρου, διπλής αγνοίας φως_

_σύνδεση των εξουσιών_

_Της _

_Θάνατος _

_Ζωή _

_και_

Somehow, both girls knew exactly what the Ancient Greek spell meant. The words of Chaos, father of the Titans, rang in their ears, spinning inside of their heads.

_Silver blade, mortal's bane_

_Slaves to heaven's deathless reign_

_Titan's curse, the lot is cast_

_Mortals were not meant to last_

_Fallen earth, bloody stain_

_Does this curse possess a name?_

_Choking black, blinding light_

_Bind the powers_

_Of_

_Death_

_And_

_Life_

Lauhrel felt her knees crash to the dirt, her mouth hanging mutely open, and she let out an agonized scream. Her bones felt like they were made of ice and burning alive, but at the same time. Too heavy. She couldn't move. Something twisted, roiled inside of her chest.

A similar shriek ripped out of Keta's throat as she doubled over, collapsing to the ground, facedown. She retched, clawed at the dirt. To no avail. No avail. Something lurched inside of her, something hideous and violent and _wicked –_

_Θάνατος _

_Ζωή _

_και_

A black fog began to lurch out of Lauhrel's mouth. A sickening horror boiled in Keta's stomach, and she saw something similar snaking out of her throat.

_Death_

_And_

_Life_

The fog rose, crested up – hovered across the air, towards the blade of the Titan Lord, Kronos – and disappeared into _Eternal_.

Another yank, a sharp tug in her chest, and Lauhrel felt all the fight she had left in her gather and cough out of her throat. A flash of light. A glowing, pulsing, sparking orb of energy shot out of her and into the blade.

_Eternal_ glowed like molten metal, glittering with a white immortal light.

Lauhrel and Keta closed their eyes. Keta thought she heard someone screaming, an anguished, jagged shriek that never broke for breath, and she thought maybe it was her. A terrible darkness, a blinding light, and the wind roared in a hurricane around the ancient shrine. Then, after a time, silence settled over the woods.

The voice of _Eternal_ whispered in the girls' ears.

_Rise, my Masters._

**...**

**A/N: **This fic is a project I'm doing with another author, "Spark of the Forgotten," who's really an awesome friend. Keta is her OC; Lauhrel is mine. Keta is pronounced "key-tah." Lauhrel is pronounced like "Laurel." More details on the origins of _Eternal _and the characters will come when the story really takes off, beginning with chapter one, which will move back a bit to show how the girls got here. This is all original. It takes place during the first Titan war, when Zeus and the other Olympian gods were plotting to overthrow the Titans.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1: Chaos Learns the Consequences of Bad Parenting**_

In the beginning of time, when the Titan Lord Chaos ruled over all in heaven and on earth and under the earth, a great evil stirred in the accursed depths of Tarturus. The spirit of Death, black and wicked, raged at the upper world that so dared to restrain it. It swirled like a deep mist, filling the whole breadth of the pit with its hideous presence. The scent of sulfur roiled in Tarturus. Death shrieked aloud, the mist coiling, lashing against the door of the pit, taking countless shapes in its wild attack – jagged claws, vile beasts, and horrors that are better off shrouded in mystery (things too terrible to describe) – but alas, the malevolent spirit was contained. The mist of Death rolled back, biding its time.

And its time would come.

There came a time when the womb of Chaos' wife, Gaea, bore great, monstrous sons – the Cyclopes, a trio of brothers whose names were Lightning, Thunder, and Thunderbolt. The Cyclopes were skilled blacksmiths, terrible beasts of great power, each with a single, bloodshot eye planted in the center of his face. Alas, these monsters failed to please their father, and Chaos secretly loathed the hideous sons his wife had brought forth.

When Gaea again bore children, the creatures possessed fifty heads and a hundred mighty arms. Their massive stature was strong and imposing, but these sons Chaos despised all the more, repulsed by their distasteful forms. The passage of time only served to fuel the Titan Lord's hate all the more, and eventually, he could hide his disdain no longer.

Chaos, Lord of the Titans, burst forth with a roar like the tumult of an army: "I feel nothing but disgust at these sons of mine! I must begin my family anew, in the image of my own might and glory; but these monsters, these unholy creatures Gaea has born to me – they must be cast into darkness, out of my sight! I cannot to bear to look upon them; I do not call them my own. The hundred-armed warriors, the Cyclopes, these are no longer my sons – they are a disgrace to the reign of the Titans, a stain upon creation! – they shall be cast into Tarturus until the end of time, or until the Fates bring destruction on my deathless throne."

Furious words; and the Titan Lord soon turned them to action. He seized his sons – the hundred-armed warriors, and also the Cyclopes – and their father dragged them to the edge of the great pit called Tarturus.

The pit rumbled as though with an earthquake that shook the very foundations of heaven earth. With a shout, Chaos seized the boulder that sealed the ancient prison, hurling it aside with his bare hands. The Titan Lord's sons clawed at the edge with their hundreds of arms, and the Cyclopes, half-mad with rage and fear, rushed their father together – but even together, it was not enough. Chaos lashed out with one giant fist, crashing forward – brilliant strength; flashing power! – and his immortal children tumbled back, crying out. All fifty heads on each warrior let loose with terrible wails, all hundred hands flailed for something to hold on to, but in vain.

Darkness swallowed whole the Titan's sons.

Suddenly, something stirred in the blackness below. A mist began swirling up, like serpents coiling from the depths. Chaos stared, wordless, unable to comprehend what this entity, this shrouded wraith, could be.

It was the spirit of Death, so long unknown, now rising from what had been its grave since before the beginning of time.

The spirit's form, a sulfurous mist, gathered into the spectral shape of a dragon. The wraith's wings beat the air with violence, its spiked tail smashing against the sides of Tarturus. It opened wide its gaping maw, letting loose with a keening wail that rapidly deepened into a deep, rumbling battle cry. Then the mist dispelled, formless once again. Before Chaos could restrain it, it soared out of Tarturus and into world above, the land of mortals: man's dominion.

The Titan Lord, Chaos, quickly fled back to the seat of his reign – Mount Orthys – to meet with Gaea and his sons, bursting forth with winging words: "A deadly spirit from before the dawn of time has awakened – its name is Death, and its power is too great to be killed, even by our deathless hands. Come, my brothers, my sisters! Rise, Gaea, my bride! Quickly, we must bind our powers together; a barrier may yet be possible. Our power and magic can keep the spirit down on lower earth – but alas, I fear that earthly flesh shall feel the spirit's vengeance. A curse falls on mortal man, a stain too deep to be cleansed. But hurry; there is no time to waste! The seconds pass, with or against the will of the immortals – and now Death brings a curse upon it. But yet, let the Titans preserve our own. Our age will not fall today."

And so, the Titans combined their strength. A barrier formed 'round the realm of the deathless, forever banishing Death from its hallowed halls. Never would gods or Titans feel the sting of the spirit's curse – it was bound to lower earth forever.

Below, in mortal earth, all hell had broken loose.

Dark mist spread like evil itself, leaking into every crevice, reeking with the stench of sulfur. The spirit whose name was Death filled the whole earth, poisoning every living thing with its presence. The strongest men simply began to age. The weaker ones – youths, women, children – keeled over in agony so deep, not a cry came from their lips. Wails rose from most every home as Death struck for the first time in all history. Even the most hardened hero felt his eyes stream with tears of bitterness and sorrow. Whole villagers gathered, mourning together, holding funerals for the endless, endless dead. Mothers clutched their sons' cold bodies against them, but in vain. Children lie still and lifeless. Villagers' corpses were strewn lifelessly about the streets.

Thus, Death descended upon mortal earth, although it was cast out from the heavens. But even the worst of curses must bend before the axe of deadly Fate. There would come a time when Chaos would further bind the spirit, sealing it within a prison forged by the very sons he banished. Yet, though the wound of Death's spirit ceased to bleed, scars would remain.

And Kronos had other plans for the spirit called Death.

Plans that would damage the future beyond what even the Titans could repair.

…

**A/N: To those of you who haven't yet reviewed (but have read), please leave us some feedback. This is our first collab, so reviews mean the world! To those who have reviewed, thank you so so so much! You're awesome!**

**Forgive the bulkiness of this chapter; this will descend back into traditional narrative soon, but we're trying to build the mythology that will culminate in the creation of _Eternal_, which will take a chapter or two. The origin of death is never addressed in the myths, save for the fact that the Fates control it, Fate itself/destiny dictates it, and the gods can't stop it. So if the gods/Titans can't stop it, it must be something that they never intended to exist in the first place. Basically, it has no origin. It resided in Tarturus from beyond eternity into the infinite past. Then Chaos let it loose!**

**Again, please review. We apologize for Chaos' miserable parenting skills. xD Poor Cyclopes…**


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